Behind the Race
One, two, three, and four.
How many more scars must my arms endure?
Big, small, fat, and thin,
From my addiction will I ever win?
Five, six, seven, and eight.
When did I start this horrid race?
Once or twice was my pace.
Until my addiction took away my grace.
Nine, ten, eleven and twelve.
My will power has really held.
But I can fight no longer with my pen.
Looks like the race has started again.
A/N... Plz R&R, means a lot.